


Epistaxis

by eyemeohmy



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Blood Kink, Dubious Consensual Nosebleed Kissing I Guess, Herbert's a creep and water is wet, M/M, Mild Sexuality, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nosebleed, Squick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21863113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: The heat does crazy things to your mind.
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 3
Kudos: 95





	Epistaxis

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2011. Pardon any clunky grammar. Technically a prequel to [Shiner](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038855).

Dan had thought he left the the unbearable heat behind when he returned to the US. The humidity in Peru had nearly killed him. It was one of the many reasons he wanted to get the Hell out of there. 

Yet, he still had no fucking idea why he decided to return to Arkham, of all places. 

It was nothing but a bitter memories of tragedy, loss, madness, and zombies. It was possibly Herbert's silver tongue; he could blame that convincing, devilish bastard for hypnotizing him to tag along. Whatever the reason, Arkham held a soft spot in Herbert's lump of coal for a heart.

Regardless, Dan was hoping the summer would be much less intense than the sweltering heat of Peru. While the humidity was not near as bad, they had to arrive and move in on the hottest day of the month.

It'd only been an hour since they started unpacking and moving their things, few as they were, into the former cemetery home. They would have called movers to do it for them, but considering some of the contents of their work... 

Dan sighed and pulled on a tank top and loose trousers flecked with bleach stains (for the blood and brain matter). Given he was physically stronger than Herbert, he was tasked with carrying the more heavier items.

Just one hour, and Dan felt like he'd been working the entire day. He was sweating profusely, moist rings under his arms, hair slicked back and wet, muscles sore as they strained against the weight of their lab equipment, furniture, and the heat. No use complaining, however; Herbert would just lecture him, tell him Peru was worse, suck it up. Then again, Herbert was given considerably less work to do, flitted back and forth from the truck to the house with lighter boxes containing clothes, kitchen items, and securely wrapped tools of scientific blasphemy.

Fucking asshole. Dan's patience was melting away with the rest of the moisture in his body.

The worst was yet to come, however. 

Now Dan had to move the more larger laboratory supplies, including the metal tables and desks, to the cellar. Hoisting them inside, dragging them across the floor and fighting to get them down the hall, they clunked clumsily down the stairs and he gingerly tossed them onto the cobblestone ground. Herbert could set them up; the smaller man was unwrapping his test tubes and beakers, Bunsen burners and flasks with careful ease.

After moving three tables, two desks, and large instruments of sorts, Dan swore he was going to take a break right after he hauled down the final table. Sit on their empty kitchen floor (table still packed up), chugging down a cold beer, letting the loud, dying fan across the room blow on him directly until the old AC unit finally kicked in. Herbert could at least handle the kitchen table; it was small and sort of flimsy anyway. If he attempted to protest, Dan would throw his bottle at him, empty or not.

Dan felt his arm muscles cramp up as he yanked the table through the basement door. With a deep inhale, he began his descent. Half way down the stairs with calculated backward steps, he caught sight of Herbert now across the room, leaving his equipment sprawled out on one of the propped up tables. His roommate was eyeing the far brick wall inquisitively, one hand stroking his chin; Herbert still wore his suits in this terrible weather, though the sleeves were rolled up and pinned in place. Dan could see he was moist with sweat as well, but still remarkably kempt.

Enough was enough.

"West," Dan growled, "what are you doing? We're not going to hang any paintings down here, get back to--" However, in his distraction, the table slipped one step and he tripped over. Dan gasped as his back hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs; wide eyed, he flipped around, smashed himself against the bricks just as the table slammed against the wall where he once stood.

Dan hadn't noticed at first. He was just happy his rib cage was still intact. But as he turned to hit the damned table, he felt something trickle warm on his top lip. Tongue instinctively darting out, he licked it away, only to gag at the metallic taste. Touching his nose, his fingers drew back, coated in fresh blood. "Shit," he cursed.

"Careful. That's an expensive surgical table."

Dan looked up with a glower. Herbert was approaching him; Dan bit back his comeback when he noticed the strange glimmer in the smaller man's eyes. Fascination, the same used when he was brewing his reagent or testing it on a human guinea pig. 

Dan blinked as Herbert took his bloodied hand, lowered it. 

"Let me see."

Dan went cross-eyed momentarily when Herbert touched his nose. Carefully felt it up. "Not broken at least," the scientist reassured. His sweat-slicked face started glowing with that morbid intrigue. Dan twitched. "Pretty heavy, though. We should stop the flow before it gets worse."

"Yeah, good i--"

However, Dan had not expected Herbert's method of clogging his bleeding nose... with his tongue. Herbert took his face in his hands, stood up on his tippy-toes. His tongue swept along his partner's upper lip, lapping away the blood. 

Dan was so shocked, he was frozen in place, unable to react, let alone blink. 

When the smaller man's tongue decided to move into a nostril, Dan flinched, raised his hands to push him away, but... stopped. This wasn't their first time kissing (their relationship was already strange anyway), but this hardly counted as a kiss. Even though Dan's mind seemed to think it was. 

The sensation was weird. It tickled, almost, sent a shiver down his spine. Herbert swirled his tongue, just lightly, cleaning the blood still pouring before it could leave his nose. Dan snorted instinctively, blood leaking from his untouched nostril. Herbert smirked, moved to treat the next and lick up the small track it left behind.

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe Dan had lost his mind. He only half-acknowledged the fact he was leaning forward, allowing Herbert to fall back on his feet without straining. The fingers on his face slid up, combed into his wet hair until they curled, took small fistfuls. Dan's eyes went lidded, brain swimming in his skull; Herbert pushed his tongue into his nostril again, and he wiggled.

What was happening? It was the heat. It had to be the heat.

Herbert drew back a minute later. They both took deep breaths. More blood trickled down Dan's face, a bit cool from the moisture of Herbert's--fuck-- _saliva_. Dan went to step back, but the hands remained holding his face, in his hair. He felt the blood run down the front of his mouth, raised a hand to instinctively wipe it away. 

Herbert pushed it aside, shoved his lips hard against the bloodied mouth and kissed with fevered, clumsy passion.

No, not kissing, but still very intimate. And they'd also been intimate in the past. Not like this, of course, but in Peru, they had a few little... trysts. 

When Dan was afraid to sleep and the jungle heat was playing tricks on his mind; nights where he believed this was the end, he was going to wake up and emerge from his tent and seconds later, a bullet would be lodged in his skull. Nightmares of the past and present, of Meg, of Arkham, of the undead men and women and the monsters... Herbert put up with his whims, never complained or protested. If he had some semblance of a conscience, maybe he felt guilty for the major role he played in these nightmares, but Dan honestly hoped not--not for this reason, at least. Dan sometimes worried if he was forcing himself on the man despite being given explicit consent. 

They never went beyond third base; kiss here, grope there, some dry humping, but never any penetration or even removing all their clothing.

Strangely, this felt more intimate than actual sex. Probably because Dan had never allowed any of his partners to do this. Not that they would have wanted to. In fact, any sexual desire was far from their mind when they saw nosebleeds. Meg would have dragged him to the kitchen and instructed him to keep his head back with a rag to his nose, as if she forgot her fiance was a doctor-in-training. 

Not... wanting to be spread across the table and shove her tongue up his bloodied nostrils.

The surprise subsiding, Dan returned the kiss carefully. He could taste his blood on Herbert's lips and tongue. It was bitter, warm. Still, it sent a flare right down into his crotch, and the kiss deepened, matched the heat that made the stuffy cellar almost unbearable.

Herbert wasn't the best kisser, but he was experienced, knew just what to give and take. He was taking more this time; greedily traced his tongue along Dan's lips every time blood managed to seep between their mouths, sucked on his tongue and red stained teeth until they were relatively clean.

Herbert broke the kiss, pink saliva dribbling from their shining lips. Head tilting back, he swirled his tongue around his roommate's nose again. The bleeding was starting to stop, but Herbert made damn sure he drank as much of it as possible. Dan moaned, eyes shut and lashes fluttering.

God, was he getting turned on by _this_? Herbert was much more persuasive than he thought.

When the blood ceased its flow, Herbert stepped back. The edge of his nose was red, his mouth still smeared. He dragged a thumb across his bottom lip, wiped away some of the blood. Herbert then stuck his thumb in his mouth, licked and sucked it clean. 

Dan was left standing there, confused, breathing heavily, head light, body shaking. Herbert looked his usual stoic, semi-annoyed self; he reached over, plucked a tissue used to wrap up needles from the table. Wiped off his face and nose, but still the blood stained in places.

Realization of what just happened finally set in, and Dan could only laugh breathlessly. He pressed a hand to his forehead. "You... You are such a strange little man, y'know that?" he smirked, shook his head. "Epistaxis kink, huh? Swell."

"I have my moments," Herbert replied simply. Dan scowled, head jerking back when Herbert shoved the used tissue into one of his nostrils. "I'm going to go clean up. Oh, and!" He smiled, something wicked. "Would you mind fetching the kitchen table for me? I want to start setting the laboratory up."

Dan growled. "Oh, no. _You_ get the table," he insisted, shoving a finger against Herbert's chest. "You know I risk an even worse hemorrhage if I keep lifting all this heavy shit."

"Exactly," Herbert leered.

What an absolutely terrible little pervert.


End file.
